


The walls kept crumbling down in the city that we love

by snoozingkitten



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2014 Stanley Cup Playoffs, External Souls, M/M, Magical Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoozingkitten/pseuds/snoozingkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of being eliminated from the playoffs again Sid takes Geno home.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The one where Geno wears his heart on his sleeve and Sid loves him for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The walls kept crumbling down in the city that we love

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of things to do, so many exams to study for, only I accidentally opened word then poured all my playoff feels all over my laptop. Oops. 
> 
> Ever so slight HDM fusion, title from Bastille - Pompeii. Not beta-read, always open to corrections :)

There were a million things all clamoring for his attention as the clock ran down and the final buzzer went with the sound of a thousand hearts breaking all at once. Sidney’s own was pounding a million miles a minute, the frantic rush of the last seconds resonating with the rapid thrum of his blood. His pulse echoed in his head muffling the shouts of the Rangers as they crashed into each other around Lunqvist, hailing their King with joyous shouts. There was the (triumphant) kind smile and Henke’s face as they stood together on the ice, both of them probably thinking about a few months ago when it had been Sid who was the victorious captain, funny how time repeats that way. 

He ticked down like a car, engines cooling after a frantic race, and what had that game been if not that? Racing to catch up, but caught instead in a nightmare with a sticky floor and the encroaching sense of doom. 

Fuck—that’d been all the second half of round two. 

There was Fleury, looking drawn, too tight, always took too much of the blame when it hadn’t been him at all. 

There was Bennett, Matta and Bort, sticking together, too young to be immune to the frustrated anger and yet too disciplined to lash out. 

Through it all Sidney couldn’t help but stare at the ermine, little black pads of its feet pressed up against the glass. Its sharp little teeth were bared in a snarl and the tail whipped back and forth angrily. Geno skated down the handshake line with his shoulders drawn and a tight smile for the Rangers. 

Sidney focused on it and let his body cool, digest the anger until he could meet the media after. Not with a smile, but at least without a grimace. 

Later he wasn’t surprised to see Geno sitting in his stall, staring through the reporters, long coil of white fur wrapped around his ankle. Normally if they were asking questions about why he wasn’t producing it would be on the shelf above his head, twined around the stacks of stick tape hissing at them. Geno’s mind wasn’t even trying to protect itself, focused only on the inward curl of depression. 

He looked around the room, had expected to see more animals, tending to manifest under times of duress and emotional stress. The native tales for it called it a sort of protector of the spirit, in European culture it was considered an extension of the mind, Asian cultures explained it as your soul spilling over. Whatever it was everyone had one, and only a few people could see them. Most people didn’t even know that they were manifesting when they did. 

They didn’t make sound, didn’t interact with physical objects, they just _were_. 

The ermine pulled itself tighter with something Sidney didn’t catch, face pressed against the knobby prominence of Geno’s ankle. Geno rubbed at his face with one big hand, looking weary and broken down. 

Sid was kind of shocked Shadow wasn’t anywhere (a huge long haired golden lab, like Shadow in the movie Homeward Bound, one of his childhood favourites, that came out around when he first manifested—young, angry, and frustrated that people would give him trouble when all he wanted to play hockey). 

Sid breathed deep, the room smelled of sweat and hockey gear, the metallic tang of air-conditioning. 

Letang was staring at the heron that perched next to him, it was staring right back. He’d been able to see them when he came back from the stroke. Spent a long time gaping at the ermine that would casually wrap itself around Geno’s neck, or lounge across his wide shoulders, hissing and spitting when he got angry or twisting around on the floor when he was feeling playful. Geno had showed up on Mario’s doorstep with it running tight laps around his feet, Sid never asked how long it had been there and unlike most everyone else it never went away. 

Sid had always been able to see them. 

“Come home?” Sidney asked, mouth pressed close to Geno’s shoulder, he was wearing only his boxers and still needed a shower but Geno had been in a hurry to get out of there. He didn’t look up, shoulders slumped making him look smaller than he really was. Sid resisted the urge to push into his space more, to take up that room until Geno was feeling well enough to himself. 

\--

Sid wasn’t surprised to see the dog pad up to him, tongue hanging out of its mouth and staring up at him with big sad eyes. Sid smiled at the reflection of his soul and it turned around and padded towards the living room where the muted sounds on the tv were coming from. 

There was probably something poetic about the idea that his soul would seek out Geno. 

Either way he followed it. 

Geno sat on his couch watching something filled with canned laughter but he wasn’t smiling, staring blankly at the wall behind the tv. 

The ermine looked up, staring at Sid for a long moment before it crawled down the couch, sharp little claws digging invisible holes in the leather and crawled under the couch vanishing from sight. Sid ran a hand through his hair and sighed. 

“Want food?” He asked. 

The ermine remained under the couch but Geno at least looked at him, a glance up through his lashes. It was more than Sid could get out of him in the aftermath of the Olympics, so there was that. Maybe this time it was because they were going through it together instead on opposite ends of the battle field. 

“I’m making food, you can have some if you want.” Sid continued. 

It was late, and he was tired but the last thing he wanted was sleep. 

Shadow sat under the table and stared at things Sid couldn’t see like he was wounded. Sid chopped vegetables and pretended like it was just another loss and not the culmination of another year’s dashed dreams. Half an hour later it turned out Sidney made pasta and sauce by pure muscle memory alone, hadn’t thought about it at all. It smelled good. 

Geno ambled into the kitchen, hands in the pockets of his dress pants and eyes on the huge pot of pasta. Apparently Sid felt the need to feed an army. There are thick chunks of beef in the sauce and it smelled spicy like garlic. Sid’s stomach clenched with hunger. 

“Eat in front of the tv?” 

The ermine was still nowhere to be seen, not even defensively perched on one shoulder, Geno wouldn’t be able to keep up a dinner of small talk, or even looking at Sid. 

“Yeah, good.” Geno rumbled. 

They watched something mindless on the comedy channel, some guy doing stand-up, it wasn’t very funny but the crowd was laughing and that made Sid feel a little better. Shadow curled around his feet, large front paws nearly on top of Geno’s bare feet. They stayed like that long after the food was done, stomach full of carbs and attempting to dull thoughts with television. Guaranteed to rot the brain. 

He couldn’t see any of the ermine poking out from under the couch and it left him wrong footed, unable to gauge Geno’s mood based off of that furry little face. Geno was the one person in the word Sid could always understand, even when the rest of them were a mystery to him, long before Geno could even speak English Sid had _known_ him. 

After opening the season with his longest goal draught ever, the agony that had been the Olympics Geno had pulled away and Sid had eventually gone after him, unwilling to ever let go. In ways it was almost worse than a season riddled with injury. Geno wore his heart on his sleeve figuratively, and it was taking a beating. Sid wanted to curl possessively around it, if only to stop him from taking dumb penalties when he was angry. 

If one thing was the same this time it was that Geno wasn’t going to come back on his own and Sid didn’t want the season to end like this, with defeat written in the morose expression on Geno’s face. 

“Hey.” Sid bumped his shoulder. He had massive couches but he needed to be close. “Come to bed with me?” 

They had been working towards this for the better part of two years. Well Sid had known where he was going for two years, he’d been on a crash course with his feelings since the beginning. One day he sat back looking at the house he’d built to realize he’d built in a blank space where Geno was supposed to be. 

Geno’s eyebrows crawled up his forehead. 

It wasn’t ideal, Sid had wanted to present him with the cup, watch him skate around the ice and lick champagne off of his abs in the aftermath. Still it felt like the right thing to do. “Or we could watch more tv?” Out of the corner of his eye Sid saw Shadow get really small, pulled his back legs under him, tail curled around his body like he could protect himself. 

“Yes.” 

Sid wasn’t sure what that was yes too, but Geno was standing up. While Sid was sitting down Geno towered over him, backlit by the tv and the low track lighting in Sid’s living room. Sid tilted his head back and just looked over him for a little. 

“You invite, let’s go.” Geno rolled his eyes, huffing just a little like he was impatiently waiting for Sid to settle the bill at a restaurant. 

When Sid stood up they were inappropriately close. No mistakes about intentions between them anymore, Geno’s huge dark eyes staring down at him. Sid put his hands on Geno’s shoulders, holding them like they were slow-dancing kids at his grade school shindigs. 

Their first kiss was sweet, Sid loved his sweet things. Geno’s shoulders were solid under his palms, thick with muscle, his wide hands curled around Sid’s hips. It was comfortable, a little unsure of the logistics, but the intent was complete. 

Sid led Geno upstairs to his room. 

They could have been here years ago but they wouldn’t have been ready. 

Sid bypassed the bedroom and tugged Geno into the master-bath. The lights in here were brighter and Geno looked a little waxy, tired, Sid probably didn’t look any better but he couldn’t stop tracing the lines of Geno’s body with his eyes long enough to check. 

Geno’s hand cupped his jaw, fingers curling delicately around the hinge. Later, Sid would enjoy the strength in those hands but in that moment he liked how Geno treated him like he was delicate. When their kiss broke Sid noticed the ermine sitting on the edge of the counter, it stared at him it was almost impossible to judge intent from non-human eyes. Beady eyes fixed completely on him, body held completely still like it was ready for anything. It startled when Sid moved, scaling down the back of the toilet and wedging itself behind the toilet. 

It wasn’t right, Geno responded to things that scared him with aggression, lashed out like a child, all flashing claws and teeth, fur puffed out to look even bigger. He didn’t hide. 

Sid sighed, tipping forward so he could press against Geno’s chest hugging him in his bathroom as if that was completely normal. Geno pressed his face against Sid’s hair, breathing against Sid’s ear in gentle rushes of air. 

“Let me wash you?” Sid pressed the words in light kisses against the soft skin under Geno’s ear. He smelled like locker room shampoo and the musk of hockey that lingered in the crevices. 

“Sid want?” Geno’s voice was thick and rumbly, reminded him of long-off storms, and still sweetly confused. Sid smiled. 

“I do.” 

“Okay.” 

Sid helped a little but mostly let Geno undress himself. He folded the things when Geno let them fall to the floor. Geno made a game of it, flinging his undershirt and Sid rolled his eyes, leaning over to pick it off the far sink tap where it snagged before that too got folded and placed in a neat pile. 

“Get under the spray, I’m going to go get your toothbrush.” Sid murmured, Geno stood completely naked in his bathroom, hard and soft everywhere Sid knew he was. Probably knew Geno’s body third best, after Geno himself and the PT guy Geno preferred. 

“Sid join me?” Geno didn’t hide himself, but there was still a ball of white behind one of his toilets. 

“In a little.” 

It was an effort not to rush through grabbing the toothbrush and deodorant Geno used when he was staying in the guest room. Sid took measured steps, was well used to channeling expectations. Shadow kept peeking around doors, barking soundlessly. 

He deposited the stuff on the counter, the mirrors were fogging already so he left the door open. Geno was a blur of skin-tone behind the glass shower door. 

“Sid.” Geno called, it wasn’t a question. The ermine sat on top of a ridiculous toilet paper cover he’d picked up somewhere, front paws on the edge of the tank. It looked ridiculous. Sid wanted him so desperately in that moment. 

Shadow darted past him, front paws on the toilet bowl. The ermine flinched back a little but didn’t fight or hide. 

Sid took his shirt off. “One sec.” 

He didn’t bother to fold his own clothes, just tossed them in a pile, ignored the staring contest and opened the door to the shower. Geno had his head tipped forward, letting the water hit the knobby top of his spine, dark hair plastered to his face. 

“Come here.” 

Sid traded places with him, let the water flatten his own hair, it felt good against the sore muscles in his shoulders, tight from over work and a lingering tension. Geno watched him, eyelashes dark with moisture and already turning pink from the heat. Sid had plans, they didn’t involve basking lazily in the shower. 

“Can I wash you now?” 

Geno looked confused for a moment but nodded with a little half shrug. They were so bad at giving each other whatever they wanted, couldn’t have been more obvious about it if they tried. It probably should have been weird, he was half in the spray and Geno was taller than him but Sid worked the soap into a lather on his head, Geno’s fingers digging into his hips as a balance point as he kept his eyes closed. 

Sid felt instantly better as he rubbed his fingers rubbed behind Geno’s ears making his mouth part a little. Something inside of his chest was slotting into place and he didn’t have a name for it, knew only that it was precious and far too small, needed to be protected, to be nurtured. Geno shivered, goose-flesh sliding down his arms. 

“Good?” Sid asked. 

“Cold.” Geno replied softly. 

Sid chuckled and Geno settled under his hands, fingers flexing against his skin momentarily. 

They moved around under the spray, sliding against each other wetly. Sid’s shoulders took up more room, all the pounds he had on Geno were pure muscle. Sid reached around him to grab a wash cloth and the body wash he kept there. Something supposedly soothing with cucumber in it, he didn’t really feel much about cucumbers but it kept rashes from the rub of equipment to a minimum so he could deal. 

Geno shook the water from his hair splattering Sid. Sid wrinkled his nose. “Be good.” 

Geno stilled, he looked past Sid and smiled a little. “Sorry Sid.” It didn’t sound like he was talking about the water

Sid manhandled him out of the spray so he could scrub over Geno’s shoulders next. 

They were both quiet, Sid focused on the task of cleaning Geno’s chest, alternating between actually washing and letting his fingers play over the wet muscles. 

It was when he was kneeling behind Geno, having cleaned his back and was focusing rather intently on the backs of his thighs and his strangely knobby knees. Probably not that dirty but it wasn’t a part of Geno Sid knew well, only teasing flashes when Geno would wear awful basketball shorts and let his legs sprawl everywhere. The skin was amazingly pale. Sid lost himself a little. 

“Sorry Sid.” Geno said again, this time it wasn’t about the water at all. He was leaning with his palms against the wall and even the curve of his lower spine looked sad. 

Sid sighed, ran his hands up the outside of Geno’s calves and for a moment wished he wasn’t the Captain so he could just reassure Geno. 

“We’re a team G, you know that.” It was the closest to the hundreds of things he wanted to say. The least likely to hurt for that moment. 

They have had different iterations of this conversation a million times. Usually not naked. Or wet. Still, the same conversation. Usually Sid could see the ermine to know Geno never told him empty platitudes-- that he truly believed they wouldn’t have lost had he only been better. Still Sid could feel the truth in the tenseness of his muscles, read it in the downward pull of his shoulders. 

“Me and you, and everyone else.” 

Tomorrow Sid would need to start contacting them, touch base before everyone scattered. Clean-out day was about beginnings and endings, Sid was always busy. 

Geno huffed, without being able to see his face Sid couldn’t tell what kind of sound that was. He stood up, using Geno’s body for balance. Because Sid could he turned Geno around, pushed him under the water and kissed him. 

The hot water slid down over them, Sid wrapped his arms around Geno’s torso pulling them flush together while Geno’s arms went around his shoulders. It was kind of clichéd but Sid felt lighter kissing Geno, taking care of him had smoothed away some of the hurt turning it from a sting to an ache. He wrapped himself in Geno, pressed his tongue into his mouth and licked at the heat of him. Geno pushed back. 

The kiss came to an end with a flurry of smaller kisses, each one breaking for a quick breath before going back. Sid rest his head against Geno’s he was getting cold where the water wasn’t, the bathroom door open meant the fog wasn’t staying in with them to keep them warm. 

“Go get ready for bed, I’ll catch up.” Sid licked some of the water off his lips, they felt swollen and slick. 

Geno looked like he was considering it for a moment before he nodded slowly. 

The shower was infinitely less entertaining without Geno in there with him so he rinsed of quickly he’d sped through the shower at the rink, wanted to catch up to Geno. So he washed his hair a little harder than before. Listened to the _sha-sha_ sound of Geno brushing his teeth just on the other side of the glass. He was coming out just as Geno was finishing up, spitting out mouthwash into the sink. He preened a little as Geno’s eyes raked up and down his body in the mirror. 

Geno was bent over the sink wearing a stretchy pair of boxer-briefs. 

“I’ll catch up.” Sid assured him again, reaching for a towel to rub against his hair. At least tomorrow morning he would be able to shave again. The very least, he won’t miss the chirping. 

It took very little time to go through his nightly routine, he may have sped through it a little. It was worth it, the vision of Geno spread out on his bed was lovely. He was lying on his back, one hand on his stomach, and staring at the ceiling. It took a little bit of looking, but he found the ermine wedged behind the pillow. It dashed under the bed when Sid stepped into the room, little feet that didn’t even exist sliding across the bed in its bid for a safe hiding spot. 

“Sid?” Geno asked when he turned off the light. 

There was very little light that filtered in through the open window. 

“’Come to bed’ he says, lies.” Geno huffed as Sid arranged himself on the bed.

There was a lot of space between them. 

“We’re in bed.” Sid laughed. “I’m tired.” Weary down in his bones, crushed under his own exhaustion. 

“False promises.” Geno needled.

Sid hummed, he got what he wanted. Geno was in his bed. 

He could feel Geno moving, felt the tug of blankets as he rolled onto his side, back facing Sid. They stayed that way for long enough that Sid was sure that he had fallen asleep, and was looking forward to getting there himself when Geno spoke. 

“Sid always know.” His voice was hoarse, rough from the almost-whisper of sound. Sid made and inquisitive hum, hoping it would spare him actually needing to speak. Geno was silent for a moment like he’d lost the thought. “Like, in my head, Sid knows what I need. No one else in the whole world like you.” 

Sid breathed out steadily, felt it hitch in his chest anyways. 

When they tried to make him Captain the first time he hadn’t been ready, it was so much responsibility. He wanted it but wasn’t ready for it. He has what felt like his whole life (the bits that matter the most) been reading what Geno needed. He was ready. 

He couldn’t see the ermine, couldn’t even see Shadow. It’s almost entirely because he was the needy one that Sid rolled towards Geno. It seemed like the right call because Geno fit into his arms, arching in the dark. It was a little too violent to be a hug, but Sid had his face buried in Geno’s hair, the other curled up over his ribs so his hand stayed high on his stomach and he was pressed as tightly against Geno’s back as he could physically be without being on top of him. 

Sid didn’t think it was possible, but they both managed to fall asleep all curled around each other like that. 

\--

Sid woke up the next morning only to find the ermine sitting on his chest staring at him. He barely breathed, blinking slowly, it blinked back. It didn’t have lips or really any sort of facial feature he could read amusement off of, but the curl of its tiny paws seemed maybe-content. 

Geno rolled over, he had been reading something on Sid’s phone and in the movement of blankets it was gone. Sid imagined he could still feel the not-there weight of it pressing down on his chest. The fur looked so silken.

“Morning.” Geno rasped. 

His hair was a disaster from sleeping on it wet and his loose expression was objectively kind of dopey. Sid couldn’t help the way he sort of melted into the bed, reaching out for Geno. “Morning.” Sid replied, tucking his face into Geno’s neck. Sid would never call it that but they spent a long time rolling around in bed aimlessly, just cuddling. 

Sid was almost-hard from the night, and it felt good in a warm-melting way to rub himself against Geno as they ruined the bed, blankets kicked down as they half wrestled, half kissed the morning minutes away. 

They paused when Geno was lying on his back, Sid cradled between his ridiculously long legs, his own boxers half down his ass because Geno was being a little shit and trying to pull them down with his toes. 

“In your bed Sid.” Geno wiggled his eyebrows at him ridiculously. 

“You are.” Sid hummed, leaning down to draw his tongue along the line of Geno’s collar bone, traced the sharp edge. 

Sid looked to the side, found the ermine rolling across the floor and biting at Shadow playfully. 

“You can see it can’t you?” Geno laughed, Sid tried to pull back but Geno did have the hem of his boxers with his toes and he was trapped, it was sacrifice his underwear to escape or stay pinned by Geno’s hungry stare and his weirdly-long toes. “I can’t see it, know it is always there.” 

“Geno, I—that’s how I know you so well.” Sid breathed, he hadn’t planned on sharing that yet. 

“Disco see, don’t want Disco to blow me.” Geno laughed, tugged on the hem of Sid’s underwear playfully. He was smiling at Sid, eyes crinkled around the edges and Sid fell forward on him, squishing him into the bed to keep him there. 

“You want me to blow you?” Sid licked along the inside of his bottom lip. Geno’s eyes tracked the movement helplessly. 

Geno nodded, barely had finished when Sid was on him, kissing him, sucking his tongue into his mouth as a bit of a tease. Geno’s fingers dug into the meat of his ass, pulling him up and against him. It was a sloppy kiss, mouths sliding against each other and teeth occasionally catching because they wouldn’t stop writhing against each other on the bed long enough to straighten themselves out. 

When Sid was groaning against Geno’s mouth and each shove of their hips had Geno sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth Sid wiggled out of his octopus grip just enough to slide down his body. Geno was so fucking long, the width of his shoulders tapering down to narrow hips. Ribs were landmarked like ridges and Sid ran his nose down the underside of one, pressing a sucking kiss to the defined edges of Geno’s right lat. His dick was hard, already rising out of a thick patch of black pubic hair. Sid wanted to bury his face there and just roll around in everything that was Geno. 

Instead he pressed Geno’s wandering hands down into the sheets and took the head of his dick into his mouth. Geno shouted wordlessly, thighs tightening. Sid smiled a little, pleased with himself. 

He’d been on the other end of this many times, and understood the theory of it. After his jaw-rehab was intimately aware of what his jaw could and couldn’t do. Wrapping his hands around what he couldn’t fit easily in his mouth (a lot, Geno was a nice _big boy_ , Sid was so going to ride that later) he got down to work. 

Geno babbled through it, cajoling at first, his words slurred together. Sid twisted his hand a little felt the jump and pulse as Geno’s dick slid along his palm. Bobbing in a quick series of motions then slowing it right down again. Geno whined, hands rubbing up his own chest as he twisted his feet in the sheet to either side of Sid’s torso. He was torn, he wanted to give Geno everything, and he wanted to push him to see how far he could make Geno go, all at once. 

It would be only polite to ask, but Sid had his mouth full of cock, so he used his free hand to toy with Geno’s balls a little, before he discarded that to push against the skin behind it. There, where nerves ran just under his skin and Geno hissed out something that sounded obscene but was entirely too Russian for Sid to pick apart. 

Sid kept it up, letting himself slip occasionally to rub his thick fingers along the tight curl of his asshole, just toy a little with the rim for the way Geno froze each time with a shocked whimper. Cajoling had shot straight through to begging. Sid wasn’t even listening to the words, he knew Geno better than that. Focused instead on seeing how fast he could make him come. 

Pretty fast it turned out, Geno was running his hands desperately through Sid’s hair, tugging just a little, getting increasingly frantic. Sid pulled off to finish him with his hand, the tip of his finger tugging him open just a little. 

Geno shook through it, thighs tight around Sid refusing to let him move as Geno rode out the waves and Sid kept him going with his fingers. 

There was a moment there where Sid stared at Geno, and Geno stared back unfocused and content. He was painfully turned on, and his heart felt too big to fit inside of him, everything shaken up inside his ribs like a snow-globe. 

He didn’t even properly crawl on top of Geno, just got a wet hand on his dick and began jerking off. Geno’s toes were curled against his calves, caging Sid in like he never wanted to let go of this moment either. 

Sid tipped his head back and came all over Geno’s stomach. 

“Gross Sid.” Geno mumbled as soon as Sid was processing auditory input again. 

Sid laughed. “I’ll wash you again.”


End file.
